


Dancing with a Stranger

by capdjarin



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: (or is it), Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dancing, Din Djarin Needs a Hug, Din Djarin Removes the Helmet, First Kiss, First Time, Identity Porn, Loss of Virginity, M/M, One Night Stands, Pet Names, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Post-Season 2, Tender Sex, Touch-Starved Din Djarin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 07:15:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29274561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capdjarin/pseuds/capdjarin
Summary: They settle at a table on the edge of the room, the Marshal leaning back in his seat to analyze Din. “You got a name, stranger?”Din can’t help but raise an eyebrow. So he doesn’t recognize him. “Din."“You can call me Cobb. I’m Marshal of a small town a ways away from here. Not much to do out there,” Vanth says with a grin.“Not much to do here, either,” Din tells him.“Oh,” Cobb says, grinning sharply at him, “there’s enough.”Din Djarin, no longer donning his armor, visits a club in Mos Eisley and encounters Marshal Cobb Vanth, who doesn't seem to recognize him. Din makes some poor decisions.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Cobb Vanth
Comments: 37
Kudos: 285





	Dancing with a Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from [Dancing with a Stranger by Sam Smith & Normani](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=av5JD1dfj_c); I also have [a spotify playlist for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0bYYUHrVqFAdXmfRntXA1Z?si=g-m4TiFmTM-zsEbxM2oRWA) if anyone would like to listen

The music is loud in Din’s ears as he finishes his second drink, watching the crowd from the safety of his seat at the bar. He’s still not entirely used to being without his helmet and armor, and, although it gets easier every day, he finds himself molding into the background when he can. Sighing, he takes another sip of his drink, bright, blue, and strong. He had found himself stranded in Mos Eisley for a few days, bunking with Peli while waiting on parts to get his new ship flying, a piece of junk that could nowhere near replace the familiarity of the Razor Crest. Still, it was at least a ship. 

Without much to do in this town, Peli let him in on a local club for those seeking the company of their own gender, and after a couple lonely nights, bored and moping, she was finally able to convince him to go. Peli had melded in with the crowd almost immediately, leaving him alone at the bar. He keeps an eye out for her, smiling slightly when he notices she’s found a sweet looking Twi'lek woman to dance with. 

“Haven’t seen you ‘round here before, stranger,” Din hears to his side, and the familiar voice has him looking over in surprise.

It’s Cobb Vanth, the Marshal from Mos Pelgo, leaning up against the bar, a drink in his hand. Without the presence of the harsh Dune Sea sand, he seems to have forgone the red scarf Din had admired previously, wearing a loose red top with a low v-neck. Red does suit him, Din figures; the way it contrasts against his skin, highlighting the silver of his hair and beard. 

“New in town,” Din says, wondering if the Marshal recognized him. “My friend dragged me out here. Said I needed to get out more,” he says, nodding towards Peli. 

“Is that so?” Cobb asks, tilting his head and grinning at him. “Well, any friend of Peli is a friend of mine. Can I get you something to drink?” 

Din looks at his glass to see it nearly finished and he takes the last sip. “Spotchka,” he says.

“You got it, pal.” He turns to lean against the bar with both arms, putting his weight on one leg, showing off his tight pants. “Two snorts of spotchka,” he tells the barkeep, reminding Din of their first encounter, which was certainly uncomfortable, but with a complicated tension that pulled at Din’s stomach.

They settle at a table on the edge of the room, the Marshal leaning back in his seat to analyze Din. “You got a name, stranger?”

Din can’t help but raise an eyebrow. So he _doesn’t_ recognize him. “Din,” he says. It might be a little cruel, but he kind of wants to see how long it takes Vanth to figure it out.

“Well met, Din,” Cobb says, smiling and leaning forward. “You can call me Cobb. I’m Marshal of a small town a ways away from here,” he tells Din. “Not much to do out there,” he says with a grin. 

“Not much to do here, either,” Din tells him. 

“Oh,” Cobb grins sharply and it sends a surprising wave of arousal through Din, “there’s enough.” 

* * *

Cobb pulls him to the dance floor after they finish their drinks, the alcohol burning pleasantly through him, just enough to soften the lights and let him forget how exposed he is. Cobb holds him close as they dance, and Din can feel the press of his hand against his back, burning through his shirt. He gets the hang of dancing easily enough; it’s not something he’s practiced in by any means, but it’s a lot like fighting, in an odd way. Following instincts, paying attention to the movements of his partner. 

After some time, when Din is sweaty and breathing hard, and Cobb has rolled up his sleeves, Cobb leans in to kiss him, their bodies still moving with the music. Cobb doesn’t know it’s his first kiss, but Din just gasps into it and follows his lead, and, well, it’s not much different from dancing. Din tilts his head and it’s so good, their facial hair rubbing together, pressed together all the way down. Din’s half hard in his pants and when he grabs Cobb by the shirt at his sides, pulling them together to deepen the kiss, he finds that the Marshal is too. 

Din gasps again and breaks away, only slightly, letting their hips grind together. Cobb takes the opportunity to kiss down his jaw to his neck, kissing and biting at the sensitive skin there. It’s nothing like Din had ever experienced before and he can’t think of anything aside from Cobb’s body pressed against him, pleasure bouncing around his stomach with every nibble to his neck.

“Cobb,” he says, pulling at his shirt. “We should— can we—” he’s not even sure what to ask; the alcohol is surely burnt out of his system by now, but he still feels drunk with arousal. 

“You got a place to go?” Cobb asks into his neck. 

“Staying with a friend,” Din says, voice low in his chest. “No privacy.”

“Shame,” Cobb says and bites at Din’s earlobe. “There’s an inn around the corner. We could get a room for the night,” he says, pulling back slightly to look at Din, fingers weaving through his hair.

“Lead the way,” Din says. 

* * *

This… is a bad idea, Din thinks as Cobb leads him by the hand to the nearby inn. He knows this isn’t fair to Cobb, but Din isn’t ready to answer the questions he knows will pop up. He doesn’t want to think about his lost child, his lost ship, his lost _home_. He just wants _Cobb_ , firm and kind, above him or beneath him. A fire starts to rise in Din’s stomach as he thinks about it— about how Cobb wants him, the way their connection is still present even without the armor. Even if Cobb doesn’t know it.

Without thinking, Din pulls on Cobb’s hand, bringing him in for a kiss, pushing him against a nearby wall. Cobb goes easily, noises rumbling in his chest as he grasps at Din’s hips, shoulders, hair while they kiss sloppily against the building, an intimate moment shadowed in the dark. 

Cobb eventually pushes him away, laughing. His lips are red from kissing, wet with their combined spit, and his hair is all out of place. Din can’t remember why they didn’t do this in the first place, why he didn’t stay with the marshal that night after they killed the Krayt. 

“Din,” Cobb breathes into his mouth. He pushes Din back slightly and Din goes somewhat reluctantly, making rare eye contact with the man. “I could do this all night, darlin’, but I want to get you somewhere private. Wanna see all of you.”

Din knows he’s right, but he can’t help but let a moan rip from his chest as he leans back in to kiss him. The Marshal called him _darling_ , like he was special, like he was something to be adored. Din wants to keep pretending as long as he can. 

* * *

They eventually make it to the inn, though not without pit stops when they can’t keep their hands off each other. The room is fine, simple but with a spacious bed; a luxury he doesn’t often have.

“Can you take off your shirt for me, darling?” Cobb asks, and Din isn’t one to refuse such a polite request. He pulls off his shirt, exposing his chest littered with scars. Cobb has an arm around his waist and kisses the expanse of his shoulders, lingering on the tight, deformed skin. 

Cobb pulls back and follows suit, the red shirt up and over his head then on the floor. Cobb also seems to have had a rough history, the scars telling a story without words. 

Din pulls him in and kisses him firmly, relishing in the skin to skin contact: more than he’s ever experienced before. 

They make fast work of the rest of their clothes until they’re completely exposed and lying in bed together, kissing for what feels like hours or seconds, the two of them taking turns rolling each other over and grinding their growing erections together. 

“How do you want to do this?” Cobb asks breathlessly above him. 

“Anything,” Din breathes. He cups Cobb’s jaw and lets his thumb run over the scar at his temple. “Anything you want.”

Cobb surges forward for a blazing kiss before kissing his way down Din’s body, biting and sucking on the way until his breath is hot on Din’s cock. 

“Oh,” Din breathes, gripping the sheets and forcing himself to keep his hips from bucking up. 

Cobb wastes no time at all before taking the tip of Din’s cock into his mouth, wet and inviting. He feels so _good_. Cobb sucks lightly and fondles his testicles, encouraging Din until he’s fully hard and leaking precum into Cobb’s mouth. Slowly, so slowly, Cobb moves further down, taking more of him in, using his hand to work the rest of his shaft, saliva smoothing the way. 

“Cobb,” he says, panting. 

Cobb pulls off slightly, and the sensation air mingling with spit on the tip of his cock makes him gasp again. “Pull my hair, sweetheart, please,” he says, before taking Din back into his mouth.

Another polite request that Din doesn’t even consider refusing. Din moves his hand to Cobb’s hair, smooth and thick at the top, and weaves his fingers through it, pulling slightly in encouragement.

Cobb moans around his cock and Din just barely keeps himself from fucking into Cobb’s hot, talented mouth. 

Eventually, Cobb finds a rhythm, bobbing on Din’s cock, one hand gripping his hip, the other massaging the rest of his shaft, and Din lets himself get lost in the sensations. The only thing that matters in the world suddenly boils down to one man. He wonders if Cobb would want him like this if he knew who he was, if he knew that he was just a lost dar'manda, pretending to be something he’s not. 

He feels arousal pooling, nearing climax, so he says, “Cobb,” and pulls him up before he can come. “I don’t, I don’t want to come yet,” he says. “I want…” his treacherous brain thinks what he can’t vocalize: I want you to make love to me. “Fuck me,” he says instead. “ _Please_.”

Cobb moves back up to kiss him deeply, taking Din’s breath away. “Well since you asked so kindly and all,” he drawls, fingers scratching at the hair on the nape of Din’s neck. “Hold on, darlin’,” he says, pulling up and away. 

In Cobb’s absence, Din lets his hand move down to his erection currently spreading precum on his stomach, pulling slightly to relieve some of the pressure. 

“Now that’s a sight I could get used to,” Cobb says as he nears the bed, one hand fondling himself. In his other hand, Din sees a condom and a small tube. 

“Glad one of us is prepared,” Din says.

“It pays to be ready for anything,” Cobb agrees, climbing back in bed with him.

“You do this often?” Din asks. 

“Not too often,” Cobb says, humming consideringly. “Not too often I get out to Mos Eisley, and even less often that someone catches my eye like you,” he says, looking into Din’s eyes, kissing his jaw. “You ever done this before, sweetheart?”

Din can’t help but blush, realizing his inexperience didn’t go unnoticed. “No,” he says. “This is new, but I _want_ you.”

“I’m gonna make it so good for you,” Cobb says, breathing into his mouth, taking Din’s cock in hand. 

“I know,” Din says, gasping and thrusting into Cobb’s hand. “I know you will.”

Cobb sits up to kneel between Din’s legs, pushing his legs up and apart. He grabs a pillow and urges Din up so he can slide it under. The angle makes him feel so exposed, and he likes it, despite everything. Cobb gets a dollop of lube onto two of his fingers and he reaches down to massage at Din’s hole, surprisingly cold. He gasps, hips flinching up. Cobb just rubs soothingly at his thigh as he continues to rub at him. “Sorry, sweetheart. It’ll warm up soon.” Din moans and uses an arm to cover his face when he pushes the tip of one finger into him, the drag smoothed over by the lube, but still so warm and tight inside of him. 

“You gotta relax, darling,” Cobb says, rubbing circles on his skin as he pushes his finger in deeper. 

Din breathes out and forces himself to relax. “Talk to me?” Din asks.

“I can do that,” Cobb says as his finger starts to move in and out. “Wha’d’ya wanna know?” 

“You get many handsome strangers in that small town of yours?” Din asks, praying Cobb doesn’t think too hard about his line of questioning.

“One or two,” Cobb says. “Never did this with any of them, though.” He’s using more lube now and working two fingers into him 

“Any of them ever catch your eye?”

Cobb raises an eyebrow at him, rubbing at Din’s insides. Din wonders if he’s been caught, but Cobb just says, “One. But I'm sure you don’t want to hear about an old man’s fleeting fancies.”

“It’s helping me relax,” Din points out, hips rising to meet Cobb’s fingers stretching him open.

“That it is,” Cobb agrees. “Alright, then. It is a pretty good story.” 

He crooks his fingers just so, rubbing at Din’s prostate. Din gasps and his cock jerks against his hip, starting to pay attention once more. More lube and a third finger enters the mix, filling Din more than he’s ever been filled before. 

“I had this armor at one point,” Cobb tells him. “Some old Mando armor I got from Jawas. Wore it every day as Marshal until a Mandalorian tracked me down. Wasn’t sure if we were going to fight or fuck when I saw him in the cantina. Woulda been fine either way, honestly.”

“Did you ever see his face?” Din asks to keep up plausible deniability.

“Don’t think he ever takes it off,” Cobb says. “But I still would’a bent over for him if he asked. I wanted him so bad, darlin’, almost as bad as I want you.” Cobb’s fingers glance over his prostate again, and Din moans for more than one reason. 

“Anyway,” Cobb says, fingers thrusting into him, and he takes a hold of Din’s cock, working it until he’s hard again. “We ended up working together to kill a dragon. He saved my town.”

“And you two didn’t…?” Din trails off, knowing the answer.

“Wanted to,” Cobb says. “Couldn’t dare ask him.”

“I doubt he could have refused,” Din says, hips thrusting up between Cobb’s hands. “He’d have to be an idiot to say no to you.”

“Dunno,” Cobb says. “Think he had a lot on his plate. Either way, I thought about him,” he confesses, “most nights. For a long time. It’s why I started coming into town,” he says. “He made me realize how damn lonely I am, how much I missed having someone around who gets me.” 

“I know the feeling,” Din says. Cobb starts grinding against Din’s leg, and Din just wants Cobb to _fuck_ him already. “ _Cobb_ ,” he pleads, “I’m ready. Please.”

“Yeah,” Cobb says, “fuck yes. You did so great, sweetheart. Enough about Mando, gonna be so good for _you_.” Cobb leans forward to kiss him and Din all but melts into it, loves the taste of them mingling together. Cobb grasps their cocks together and thrusts against him until they’re both hard again then pulls back to slip on the condom and lube himself up. 

Then, he’s on his knees, lining himself up, spreading Din wide open. He pushes in, so, so slow, and Din has never felt anything like it before, the slow drag hot against his insides, Cobb inside of him, filling him up. 

“Oh,” Cobb breathes as fills Din up, inch by inch. “You feel so good, Din.”

Din groans and arches up in an effort to get more. “So do you,” Din says. “Please,” he begs, “more.”

Cobb works his arms under Din’s knees, pulling his legs up to get a better angle at his hole as he sinks further in, faster and still so good. Then, leaning over Din, he finally starts fucking him, the pull in and out sending jolts of arousal through his body. Din groans and moves to cover his face again. Cobb lets go of his legs and stills, pulling Din’s arms down. Din wraps his legs around Cobb’s waist to keep the angle steady.

“None of that, sweetheart, let me see you,” he says. “You’re so gorgeous, you know that? Anyone ever tell you that before?”

“Never,” Din sobs. “Cobb, please.”

“I got you, baby, don’t worry,” he says, leaning down, still impaled in Din and starts fucking him again, harder and faster this time, kissing Din with everything he’s worth. Cobb’s dick rubs against Din’s prostate at this angle, making him cry out with pleasure each time, his cock rubbing up against Cobb’s stomach. 

Eventually, the pressure starts building up again and Din can’t stop the sounds escaping his mouth. “Cobb, fuck,” he says, “you feel so good. Wanna come, please, Cobb—”

Cobb kisses him and reaches a hand between their bodies, pulling at his cock. A few more well-placed thrusts and Din is holding onto Cobb for all he’s worth, arching his back to meet his thrusts and coming between their stomachs and all over Cobb’s hand.

“Fuck,” Cobb says, pulling away to bury his head in Din’s shoulder, thrusting hard and fast now. “That was so hot, darlin’, I’m gonna—” 

“Please, please,” Din begs, and Cobb follows him, burying himself to the hilt and coming into the condom.

Din hisses a bit as Cobb pulls out, skin sensitive after being thoroughly fucked, but Din likes the sting, a reminder of being _wanted_.

“So how was that for your first time?” Cobb asks once the condom is in the trash and they’re cuddled up in bed.

“Really?” 

Cobb just shrugs. 

Din sighs fondly and pulls him closer. “It was amazing. Better than I could’ve ever thought. I didn’t think anything like this would happen tonight, but I’m glad we found each other.”

“Me too,” Cobb says. 

“How about you? Was I better than your mystery Mando?” Din doesn’t know why he keeps asking these questions, knows any possible answer will hurt him.

“Infinitely,” Cobb says, kissing whatever skin he can reach. “You’re _real_.”

_So was he_ , Din thinks as they fall into sleep. 

* * *

Cobb is still there the next morning when Din wakes up, face wedged into his arm, hand splayed on his stomach. Din could stay there forever, wants to more than anything. But reality always comes calling.

He pulls Cobb into his arms, kissing his forehead. “Cobb,” he says. 

Cobb sniffles and frowns, nuzzling into Din’s shoulder. “No,” he says. 

A smile blooms over Din’s face against his will and he huffs a laugh. “Yes,” he says. “It’s time. We have to check out.”

“I’ll check you out,” Cobb rasps as he opens his eyes.

“I think you already did,” Din teases. 

Cobb smiles at him brightly, his eyes closing and showing off the dashing wrinkles at the corners. “That I did.” 

They get dressed in a comfortable silence and Cobb kisses him once they’re clothed again. “You gonna be in Mos Eisley for a while?” he asks.

Din shakes his head, lips slipping into a slight frown. “No,” he says. “My ship is almost ready. I need to start taking some jobs.”

“Oh,” Cobb says, almost pouting. “Well, let me give you my comms code, just in case you ever make it back here.” 

“I’m sure I will,” Din says and kisses him softly before they leave.

* * *

“Look who’s alive!” Peli says when he makes it back to her garage, feeling the effects of Cobb throughout his body. 

Din grins sheepishly. “Sorry I left without telling you, I just—”

“I know, I know,” Peli waves him off. “I saw you dancing with that handsome Marshal of yours.” 

Din blushes deeply. “He’s not _mine_ ,” he insists.

“Whatever you say,” Peli says. “I’m just glad you two _reconnected_ ,” she says, eyebrows wiggling with the implication. “You know, he won’t shut up about you whenever he visits.”

“He didn’t know it was me,” Din mumbles, leaving Peli gaping at him. “He didn’t recognize me.” 

“And you didn’t think to introduce yourself?” Peli all but screeches. “‘Hey there, cowboy, I'm the Mandalorian of your dreams?’” 

“I wasn’t sure if he’d want me,” Din says. Guilt starts to bubble up in his stomach, the implications of his decisions last night settling like a dead weight in his chest.

“Stars,” Peli says, “for someone so smart, you sure are stupid sometimes.”

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Din says. “I have to leave now that the ship is ready.”

“Well, I have half a mind to keep it from you until you go talk to Vanth,” Peli says.

Din doesn’t say anything, just fixes his eyes on a spot behind her.

Peli sighs, looking away as well. “Well, listen, your ship _is_ ready. I won’t keep beatin’ you up about this, you look miserable enough already.”

“Thanks, Peli. And thanks for making me go out last night. I _did_ have fun. And it looked like you did too,” Din says with a slight smile.

Peli laughs finally, the tense moment broken. “I did. Go get your ship, track down that Wormie kid that has your baby. But think about talking to Vanth, okay? He doesn’t open up to folks often. You both deserve something good.”

“I’ll think about it,” Din promises.

* * *

He does think about it. He thinks about it as he’s checking out the ship, remembering the feeling Cobb’s beard rubbing against him while he took Din's cock into his mouth. He thinks about Cobb calling him _darling, sweetheart, baby_ while he’s organizing his meager belongings. Thinks about Cobb filling him, can almost still feel him as he sits in the pilot’s seat. 

He can’t leave, he realizes with a sudden pang. Cobb deserves _better_ than lies and anonymous hookups, and… maybe so does Din. 

“Forget something?” Peli asks when he enters the hangar again. 

“Still got that speeder bike?” Din asks as an answer.

A happy grin spreads over Peli’s face. “Yes,” she says. “You going after him?”

Din just nods, anxiety and excitement boiling in him. 

“Go get your man,” she says once she leads him to the bike. 

Din nods at her and starts his journey. He doesn’t get far before realizing that a speeder bike was probably not the best option after the night he had, but there’s no turning back now.

* * *

He arrives in Mos Pelgo midday the following afternoon, two suns burning bright in the sky. The townsfolk still stare at him as he drives into town, though with curiosity more than the fear he saw last time.

Not sure where to start, he stops by the cantina, the same Weequay bartender wiping down tables. “Your Marshal around?” Din asks.

“Marshal Vanth just got back into town not too long ago,” the bartender tells him. “You’ll probably find him at home.”

“Where is his home?” Din asks.

This makes the bartender look up and evaluate him, eyes narrowing. “Why do you want to know?” he asks, protective.

“I’m an old friend,” Din just says.

The bartender looks at him for a few seconds before a surprised recognition flashes across his face. “You’re that Mando,” he says, “who helped us kill the Krayt.”

Din nods at him stiffly. Well, at least someone recognises him. The bartender tells him how to locate Cobb’s house, a little closer to the edge of town and Din nods in thanks as he turns to make his leave.

“He’ll be real glad to see you,” he says. 

Din’s not so sure about that.

* * *

Din runs into Cobb quite literally on his way to look for him at the mid-way point between the cantina and his home. 

“Whoa,” Cobb says before registering who he is, “easy there, stranger.” Then he gets a look at Din’s face and his face brightens into a wide grin.

“Din!” he says. “I certainly didn’t think I’d see you so soon.”

Din shrugs, not sure where to start, a smile creeping onto his own face.

Then, Cobb frowns as he thinks about it. “How’d you find me? Mos Pelgo isn’t exactly on most maps.”

“I”ve been here before,” Din says. 

Cobb laughs at that, like he was telling a joke. “Now I know that ain’t true,” he says. “I’d’ve remembered your face.” 

“Cobb,” Din says, anxiety gnawing at his insides. Cobb turns serious again.

“Is there something I’m missing here, partner?” 

“I’m sorry,” Din says. Cobb still looks confused. “I should have told you.”

“You’re gonna have to spell this out for me,” Cobb says, measured.

Din breathes in and out. “Take it off,” he says, lowering his voice to hopefully sound like his voice modulator, “or I will.”

That gets Cobb’s attention and his eyebrows bunch together. Din hadn’t realized how close they were standing until Cobb steps back, out of his orbit. 

“ _Mando_?” he asks.

Din nods. “I’m sorry,” he says again. 

Cobb just stares at him as if seeing him in a new light. Din can only stand there and let it happen. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Cobb finally asks.

“At first,” Din starts, “I just wanted to see how long it would take until you realized. Then, you… didn’t. And you _wanted_ me. I wasn't sure if you’d still want me if I told you. I was a coward.”

“That’s the damn truth,” Cobb says hotly. “Of course I still would’ve wanted you. I’ve... well, you _know_ , don’t you?” 

“I do now,” Din agrees, feeling miserable. 

“Where’s the kid?” Cobb asks next.

Din’s face twists into what he’s sure is a very ugly frown. “He’s safe,” Din says. “He’s with his people.”

“Are you gonna see him again?” Cobb asks, and his face is more concerned than angry, at least.

“I hope so.” 

Cobb just sighs and looks at him then steps closer, back into his personal space. 

“I’m still glad to see you, despite everything,” he says, reaching up to caress Din’s face.

Din closes his eyes and lets his breath go. “You too,” he says softly. “I _am_ sorry.”

“I know,” Cobb says. “I know, darlin’.”

Din’s eyes fly open at the word and he can’t seem to physically stop the smile that breaks out. “I like it when you call me that,” he confesses. 

“Is that so?” Cobb asks, stepping closer. 

“Yeah,” Din breathes, looking into his eyes. “You make me feel… worthy.”

A heartbroken look flashes across Cobb’s face and he pulls Din into a hug. “You are, sweetheart.”

Din holds onto Cobb like a man drowning, burying his face in the crook of Cobb’s neck. 

“Now, don’t think I’m one that forgives so easily,” Cobb says, holding him close, rubbing his back.

“I know,” Din says. “I’ll do anything I can to make it up to you.”

“Anything?” Cobb asks mischievously, pulling back. The glint in his eyes makes Din laugh.

“Anything,” he confirms.

“Can’t believe I got to see your face and I didn’t even appreciate it properly,” Cobb says, letting his fingers trace over Din’s eyebrows, down his cheek, rubbing his stubble. 

Din can’t help but lean forward into Cobb, kissing him gently, trying to pour all of the emotions welling up in him into the Marshal’s mouth. Cobb returns the kiss, hands cupping his neck.

“C’mon,” Cobb says, taking his hand and guiding him away from the bar, presumably towards his house. “I think we need to talk before I show you how you can make it up to me.” 

Din just keeps smiling and smiling as he squeezes Cobb’s hand and follows. 

**Author's Note:**

> [come say hi on tumblr!](http://capdjarin.tumblr.com)


End file.
